Krzysztof Warlikowski / Rezensionen

German soprano Ricarda Merbeth, whose approach to the overwhelming role of Emilia Marty merits great recognition. A hugely demanding task, Merbeth surmounted this challenge to deliver a stunning performance, filled with seduction, power, frenetic emotion and, ultimately, redemption. However, the role of Emilia draws its power equally from the relationship with the story’s principal roles, Albert Gregor (tenor Kiss B. Atilla) and Jaroslav Prus (baritone Vincent Le Texier), two men both caught in the seductive snares of the bewitching Emilia. The relationship between these three was convincing to say the least, with Albert driven to a compelling emotional insanity by Emilia’s charms, and Jaroslav’s sorrow and heartbreak upon discovering the cost of his actions as the opera comes to its ultimate climax. In addition to such a compelling performance, there was no hint of a linguistic barrier from any of the singers. Unsurprisingly, a Czech opera requires a significantly greater amount of preparation with regards to the text and its pronunciation. With this in mind, German soprano Ricarda Merbeth (and many of the cast) took a year to fully prepare for the role, an effort that has quite clearly paid off, given the utterly persuasive rendition from all the singers involved. In the final moments of Janáček’s masterpiece, the audience is closed in by off-stage horns and a male choir, creating one final moment of sublime power as the story of Emilia Marty, and this epic production, is brought to its climactic finish.

The cast and décor ostensibly represent an elderly care facility, although the bleakness and lack of privacy are more reminiscent of a detention center. Iphigenia (convincingly acted and sung by Tara Erraught), condemned by her father Agamemnon, has been rescued by Diana (Marianne Croux) and serves the goddess as a priestess. Her brother Orestes (Jarrett Ott), whom Iphigenia believes to be deceased, arrives in Tauris with his friend Pylade (Juilen Behr) in tow. Although the titular heroine fails to recognize her brother initially, she is drawn to the newcomer and attempts to rescue him when he receives a death sentence. Iphigenia only learns of Orestes’ true identity in the final moments before his execution, recognizing him in extremis. She fails to carry out her brother’s punishment, angering the King of Sythia (Jean-François Lapointe). He condemns both siblings until the goddess Diana swoops in to save the day. In Warlikowski’s production, several timelines intermingle: the traditional narrative is recalled in flashbacks sung center stage by the main cast, while the presence of Iphigenia’s older self (non-singing role performed by Agata Buzek) is lost within her recollections at the nursing home, still exercising the nervous gestural ticks that her younger self displayed. The stark setting of the care facility morphs into a labyrinthian internal landscape of dreams and memories while the stage’s architectural machinations adapt accordingly. Glass wall panes and video projections provide depth and additional chambers, punctuated by a giant mirror scrim that opens the performance and reappears later, transforming the stage into a veritable memory palace. Clad in a shimmering gold skirt suit, both Iphigenias cut a tragic figure à la Jackie-O. But there is also enough bling and benevolence to conjure up Dolly Parton. Orestes blows in like James Dean, lending a hint of fragile rebellion to the role, complete with dark sunglasses. The coordination between reflective costume surfaces and sets is no accident, both were created by Malgorzata Szczęśniak. The successful production design is at the heart of this staging, providing an interactive schema. It shines a reflective light on both audiences and cast, questioning the hauntology of traumatic memory. Are some things best left forgotten?